Survivor
by GleeGeneration23
Summary: Missing scenes from the episode Survival in Season 1. Four chaptered fic-from the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura.
1. Charles

**Hi, so here is another story. This i am thrilled to announce will be my ninetieth story as well so i am very happy about that.**

 **This is based on the episode Survival in season 1. This is by far one of my favourite episodes ever and certainly the best of Season 1 or so i think. Season 1 had a kind of magic to it that i think wasn't repeated in the later seasons or perhaps that is just me. Anyhow i was inspired to write a little something and this was what came up.**

 **This is a selection of four missing scenes told in the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura from this episode and these chapters will be updated in bulk due to me going away soon.**

 **Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.**

 **Please Read and Review.**

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Survivor

Missing scenes from the episode Survival in Season 1. Four chaptered fic-from the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura.

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Part One-Charles.

The Scene before the Dinner.

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When Charles was fifteen his Pa had taken him outside and given him his first axe. While they had been chopping wood his Pa had told him about a man's obligation to his family. Family was everything, second to only God his Pa had told him and Charles had agreed because he'd already had his eye on someone at that point and starting a family was something he wanted very badly.

Someone had once asked him, a passer through, did it matter that he only had a girls. Did he not want a son? The only reason Charles hadn't punched him in the face was that the reverend was nearby and he thought it wold be undignified.

And of course, his heart still ached when he thought of his baby boy condemned to a life under the ground but he had three very alive and healthy girls that were currently shivering in the run down shelter he had managed to find them that had been so neglected it was clear that the previous owner had left in a hurry.

His Pa had told him that nothing comes in between a man and his family, not another woman, not another man and not nature. Nothing comes between you when it comes to protecting your family.

And he had failed at that.

Right now he was chopping wood in the corner of the makeshift barn and he was pretending that he was going to sleep easy tonight. That the chain of events that had taken them upon this path could not in their entirety be placed at his door.

It had been his suggestion that had seen his family on the path that they were on now. He had suggested to Caroline that he take the girls with them on this trip. It had been worth it in the beginning, living their lives so close to a big city but never getting to see one, the girls had taken in the big sights with wide eyes. They had stayed in a hotel for the first two nights before relocating the wagon for the reminder of the trip and the girls had been thrilled at the sight of the bathtub different from the tin tub they had.

Anyhow he had took them on this trip and now he had three little girls and his wife trapped with a blizzard about to hit and no prior warning.

Thankfully they had some kind of shelter. It wasn't much but it was enough. It would keep them warm at least once the wood pile he had been building was enough to last them a couple of days. He forced his cold arms to keep chopping. They had lived in colder, some of the winter's they had suffered in the Big Woods had been almost life threatening, but they had had time, him and Caroline to prepare. Now they had limited rations, limited means and if the bounty hunters were right a renegade Indian chief to worry about.

He hauled in the wood after a while. The sky was soon beginning to turn dark and the house inside would be cold. He imagined Caroline would have given the girls their supper as best she could and then hurried them into bed least they get too cold. Coats would be turned into blankets tonight he knew.

The girls had borne well with the blizzard. None of his girls were the prissy sort like Nellie Olsen and it was something he looked upon with pride. They knew how to handle themselves in a crisis. Mary and Laura had helped each other and their sister through the snow their boots slipping each of them trying so desperately to keep up with the other least all three of them fall.

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He dragged the wood inside leaving the horses warm in the barn. He only took as much as he thought they would need for tonight and tomorrow, the rest would stay in the barn and hopefully he would be able to get them come the morning of the third day.

It took Charles two goes to carry all that wood across and Caroline had already started a fire, a weak one but a fire all the same. The window that had proved such a worry was boarded up neatly and the girls were curled into a corner, Mary just brushing out the knots in Laura's hair. The girl would have usually slept in plats but Charles knew the knots would be a nightmare come morning.

The fire he managed to build engulfed the small ramshackle shelter with a warmth from the fire which immediately stopped the shivering and gave the place a much less frightening appearance.

Within seconds Caroline was tucking the girls in. Little Carrie was already asleep protected by the warmth of her older sisters but both Mary and Laura were still sleepy eyed and staring around them as if they still surprised that this was where they ended up. They curled around their baby sister and then fell asleep one by one. He waited until their breathing evened out the three of them, their hair spread across the pillows the blonde, the faint brown and the fierce brown and then he turned to his wife who was busy cooking what seemed to be last night's dinner in a tin can over the stove.

Charles moved closer to the fire, achingly aware that his fingers were trembling with the aftereffects of the cold. They had four walls and a roof and a fireplace and something resembling a lock on the door and shelter for the horses. It was better than finding some sort of hollow protection in the woods he knew but he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible that he was in this predicament. That his girls were in this predicament.

Caroline however saw through him. She had always seen through him. When they were children, when they were teenagers and he had been a blushing fool, when they had left school and she was studying for her teaching qualifications and she was attempting to be courted by James Beckett and his stomach had burned with jealously. And especially since they'd been married and they'd become parents together. If anything he would say her abilities to read him had sharpened somewhat.

"Don't do that" she said turning around and folding her shawl into neat folds. He stared at her. She ignored him and turned to check the stew bubbling away.

"Don't blame yourself, you could hardly predict the weather"

He nodded. It did nothing to stop the remorse flooding through him but he knew that she had a point. He had not known what was coming and had he known he would have certainly pushed back the deal with the grain farmers until he was sure it was safe for him never mind his family. He shook his head again at his own foolishness but Caroline was serving dinner with an annoyed look on her face and he knew should he continue to voice his belief that he was to blame for the events that had led them here she would become angry.

And experience had told him sleeping next to an angry Caroline was not particularly enjoyable. He shook his head forcing himself to breathe the smoky air and to focus on the food in front of him.

Caroline smiled at him and the smile was still as breath-taking as it had been the day he had first seen it too many years ago than he would care to count.

"Besides" she said smiling again and shooting a rather devious look at the three sleeping girls behind her. "When was the last time that we got a chance to have some time to ourselves?

He tried to cover his laugh but he couldn't stop himself from sending another thank you to God that he had these crazy, loving, incredible girls in his life-all of them.

She was right of course, they had four walls, a roof over their head, fire in the fireplace and some food if not much. For tonight they were warm and safe and secure.

For tonight he had done his job in protecting his family just like he had silently promised God when each of his baby girls were passed into his arms for the first time and he got to see them grow up in a loving household that he could give them, money not being an option in that department.

For tonight, for one blessed night, they were it seemed, all safe.

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 **And let me know what you think. The next chapter will be from Caroline's perspective. This is a new writing style and a new fandom for me so let me know what you think.**


	2. Caroline

**Hi, so here is a second chapter, this one is from Caroline's perspective like i said it would be. She's a difficult character for me to get involved with as my opinion on her does differ a little as the seasons develop. That being said in Season 1 i found her very likeable so therefore this chapter came along and it does deal with the deal of the baby.**

 **Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.**

 **Please Read and Review.**

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Survivor

Missing scenes from the episode Survival in Season 1. Four chaptered fic-from the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura.

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Part Two-Caroline

During the First Night.

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The wind has been picking up for an hour. Caroline tries to sleep she really does but something about the wind makes her think of her time on the Prairie when there was no door and there was no way to check whether or not the door is locked and the wolves were outside. She cannot sleep. She's trapped in between Mary and her husband and even though she wrapped up warm there's still a lingering chill in the air that makes her think immediately of the Prairie where the littlest sound sounded larger than life and she didn't know if the wolves or the Indian's were going to come crashing through the front door for her family.

Charles is sleeping next to her and Mary is on her other side her face smoothed out with sleep. The girls were shivering when she had put them to bed still with the aftereffects of that hour of the snow filtering in through the wagon. It will be a miracle if they escape this without one of them getting sick. They were prepared for spring not winter, she had packed clothes in mind with the weather getting warmer not colder and now they had nothing but a bordered window and the wind howling through it and a flimsy door with no lock and three girls still shivering under the mountain of coats and blankets they were curled under.

Not for the first time Caroline wonders what would have happened if she'd have had three boys. She loves her girls, loves them with an ache in her heart that is so fierce sometimes she doesn't think she can breathe due to pride and love. She's done things for her children, swallowed down insults and held her head high and put up with Harriet Olsen for her children. But sometimes in the dead of night she wonders what would have happened if she'd have had three boys.

She knew what they used to say in the Big Woods. People used to say that it was a shame she couldn't give Charles a son that a man so desperately wants. She had been convinced Laura was a boy. Mary she had been convinced was a girl, Mary with her gentle fluttering and the weak morning sickness she got. Carrie she had been angling for a healthy birth as it had been a long time between the births and she was not completely convinced after Laura she could carry another child to term but Laura when she'd been pregnant she was convinced was a boy because she didn't think girls could kick that hard.

Charles had never given her any indication that he had been wanting a son for his own. When her baby boy had died and it felt like her heart might break he had never held her accountable though she had felt for a long time like the blame must be placed at her door, at her milk, at her mothering. He's always loved his three girls, he had loved Mary, had hardly put her down except when she had to feed and came home during lunchtime to see her greedily holding her. He had done the same with Laura. When Carrie had been born times were hard and he had been planning a move though she didn't know it yet but she had seen bad fathers, father's that abused and neglected their children or made them feel unloved and she knew that she had been blessed in her choosing of man that loved his children unconditionally and without hesitation.

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Caroline knows that Charles blames himself for this predicament that they are in. she's known her husband his whole life and hers and she knows when he is struggling. Right now he's asleep but even when sleep comes she knows it doesn't give him very much of a rest. His brow is furrowed and his shoulders are tense. The bed they are sleeping on is not exactly comfortable but they've slept in worse, she remembers sleeping in the rain and the harsh wind when they were travelling and the roof of their old house in the Big Woods sometimes leaked when the rain was heavy.

There was a pause where she laid there and tried to will sleep to come to her. In the morning she knew snow or no snow that her husband would go out hunting in order to provide for them, regardless of snow, danger, whoever and whatever was out there. She could feel her stomach cramping in worry already just thinking about it. A part of her wanted to lock away her husband inside this house where it was warm and safe and she could look after them. Practical reasons told her that would no longer do but she wanted to keep her husband safe, keep her family safe and secure inside one room.

It was one of the reasons why she both loved Charles and feared for him. He had one of those urges to protect and comfort all those that surrounded him and while she loved that quality she could not pretend that she feared that one day she would lose him to it as well.

She shuddered to herself once and pretend that it was more to do with the cold than her deepest darkest fears of what a life without Charles would be like.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind so strong it made the whole house shake. Immediately she was up her hair loose over her shoulder because Mary, always her most sensitive child was beginning to stir in surprise and no doubt a little fear. Gently she rested her hand on the top of Mary's head feeling smooth skin and soft blonde hair curling around her fingers like it had done when she was little. She had never had to tie Mary's hair back like she'd have to do with Laura because Mary had never been as rambunctious as Laura. She had always been soft whereas Laura had been hard. Mary had always been sensitive while Laura to the untrained eye went around pretending she was just as invincible as a boy and just as dangerous. Caroline knew she was going to miss the days when her girls were this small. When they became two completely different, but just as strong women.

She swallowed again pulling the throw of her shawl closer. The girls had most of the blankets, tucked up warm and fast asleep with all the ease that warmth brought them. Charles had thrown a good few more logs on the fire than he needed too so it wouldn't die out and she was aware that he had angled himself so that he was nearest the door and probably the coldest. They were sharing two blankets and her shawl and with the wind still howling around them and the snow swirling outside the window regardless of the shutters she knew it wouldn't see them warm for long.

Again she cast an eye of the girls. If one of them was to develop a cough she knew from bitter experience that the other one would get it and she was not prepared to deal with three sick little girls in a house that was not her own with the Lord knows what out there lurking in the blizzard.

She gripped Mary's hand under the covers. It was the closest part she could reach and she pretend that it was more to give her sleeping daughter comfort rather than herself. She fumbled in the dark wishing that they had some more light other than the fire which was casting some truly disturbing shadows onto the roof of the house.

She tried to close her eyes again her body willing her to sleep exhaustion creeping in and dominating her very sense mixing in with the vicious insomnia keeping her awake.

She felt another hand reach out and grab hers and she turned to see Charles. He was still asleep but he had reached out and grabbed her hand in sleep. Weather he knew that she needed comfort or he had done in without thinking she did not care. Grateful for the response if nothing else she tried to settle back down and despite all odds, Caroline found herself in a fitful, week sleep that somehow managed to last to the morning.

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 **And there it is, the next chapter will be from Mary's point of view.**


	3. Mary

**Hi, so here is the third part of this story from Mary's point of view which was interesting as i do quite like Mary perhaps a bit more sometimes than i do Laura so here it is. Next chapter which is from Laura's point of view will be the last one.**

 **Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.**

 **Please read and review**

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Survivor

Missing scenes from the episode Survival in Season 1. Four chaptered fic-from the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura.

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Part Three-Mary

During the first night with Marshall Anders and Jack Lame Horse held captive.

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Mary does not generally get angry. Anger is something Laura is more familiar with. Laura gets angry quickly, she gets frustrated quickly and she takes the brunt of her anger out on whoever is nearest. Sometimes it's Mary, most of the time it's Nellie Olsen.

But not Mary. Mary does not get angry, she's never been quick to the temper or quick to use her fists, she's always been the eldest, she has to be dependable and brave no matter what, Carrie is too young and Laura's bravery can only go so far.

Their sisters, their best friends and rivals all in once and nobody knows that better than Mary because they are the same but different. The differences don't stop just because Mary has blonde hair or Laura brown or that Mary would prefer to stay in on a rainy day and Laura would prefer to be out.

So Mary does not get angry, though when she does on those rare occasions the anger is so blinding that she has to remove herself from the situation least she come out fists flying.

But right now she is furious. Her blood is boiling and her skin feels on fire.

Because Marshall Anders, the man that she has helped her Ma carry over the threshold of their makeshift home is pointing a gun at her father.

Well, technically it's at this Jack Lame Horse character but Mary's is not that naive when it comes to guns to believe for even a second that should a shot go wrong in this cramped little house her father won't catch it.

Her mother moves her and Laura out the way but some part of Mary wants to be defiant. Laura has been defiant more times than Mary can count and this time she wants to do the same. She remembers when they were in that house on the Prairie and her sister had wanted to see the other less friendly Indian people, she remembers Laura doing whatever she wanted and not seemingly getting in trouble for it. But Laura a part of her knows has always been her Pa's favourite.

A part of Mary wants to take this moment and be defiant. She wants to crawl out of her sister's arms and force herself to stand next to her mother who is being ordered around like a slave. She wants to be the brave one because her father is shaking so much that he can barely talk never mind come to their defence. Mary has heard enough horror stories both from friends who had lived near Indian plantations and from her own memories to know how soon this can turn into a bloodbath should both the gun happy marshal and the man start shooting. She wants to stay with Carrie and Laura wrapped in the blankets that won't do anything to protect them if something should go wrong but another part of her wanted to stand up and stay with her parents come thick or thin. The two parts of her brain are at war with each other for a long time before she pushes herself to her feet and moves to where her Pa is still shivering, his eyes on Marshall Anders and her Ma who is tying up Jack Lame Horse whose dark eyes are focused on Anders too. For a second though his eyes move and they fix on Mary.

For the exact second that they are staring at each other her blue eyes meeting his brown ones before her Pa reaches up to touch her shoulder. She's not sure if the touch is supposed to be comforting or if he's in need of aid because his fingers are shaking. She swallows noticing how they've turned blue a little around the tips and she turns to the fire in order to get his hat off and his coat least he start dripping over the floor. She heats the coffee up though she's never done that before.

There's a touch at her shoulder, another one with trembling fingers that she ignores but the touch reverberates through her and her hands tremble just a second on the jug. Still she pours the cup with a clean hand not spilling a drop and passing the cup to her father whose hands tremble again violently. She feels sick to her stomach.

Her Pa is generally the strongest one of them all. To see him like this makes Mary's stomach turn violently. There's a clicking of fingers behind her and Marshall Anders was staring at her she realised. She's still holding the coffee pot.

Her mother is by her side her face set in stone then taking the coffee pot out of her hand and turning around with a soft smile at Mary who swallows. She shares a look with Laura who is clutching Carrie to her regardless of the fact that her little sister is rapidly falling back asleep again. The cold wind that has entered since the door was opened has gone but for whatever reason Mary cannot stop her hands from trembling and her body from shivering.

"Get under the covers with your sister" her Ma says quietly returning from where she has just filled up Mr Anders coffee cup. She quietly puts the pot back on their makeshift stove pretending that she wasn't playing some sort of sick role where she was running errands for a man that was pointing a gun at another and had previously pointed it at her husband.

A part of Mary still desperately wants to deny her mother's request. A part of her wants so desperately to stand here tall and proud as the eldest daughter of Charles and Caroline Ingalls and the other part of her wants to do as her Ma says and curl up under the covers and shut her eyes and pretend that this isn't happening. That this is all some horrible bad dream and she's going to wake up in the morning and she'll be safely tucked inside the covers of her own bed in her own house and Laura, her tough, dependable sister who's always fighting someone of something in her own way, won't look so scared.

There was a pause as she stood there and debated what to do. It was hard being the eldest, it was hard being at an age where you knew what might happen if you sat down and what might happen if you stood up. Mary was not stupid, she didn't want to leave her parents alone when they would be faced with two men invading their little safe haven with no clue how to handle what might happen should one of them make a sudden move towards the other.

Some of this might have shown on her face because her Ma reached out to cup her face forcing Mary to look up at her. At first she thought she was going to be reprimanded. In hindsight she had hardly acted safely rushing to her Pa's side while her Ma was distracted. Instead all she saw was her Ma's face and how she was smiling. The corners of her mouth were tight and her eyes were filled with worry but Mary felt something calm slip into her bloodstream when she was looking at her Ma's face.

She nodded and slipped past her Ma's safe arms into the warm cocoon that Laura had created in order to keep Carrie both warm and asleep. Her little sister, her baby sister was still asleep her head pillowed on the pillow furthest to the wall and Laura was wide away in the dark shadowy corner. Mary slipped under the blankets nearest to where the light was keeping her sisters boxed into the darkness. Laura lay down then turning her head and Mary realised that her sister was going to sleep with her braids tonight no matter how uncomfortable they were because she couldn't bare turning around to see what was happening.

Anger flooded her system then again and a part of her wanted to turn around, to shout at Mr Anders for bringing this danger over their doorstep. A part of her no matter how un-religious it was wanted to turn back time and make sure that they never let Mr Anders into the house. That it was just like this morning and it was the five of them and they were safe and warm at least for a little while and she was asleep with nothing to worry about.

Instead she turns around and reaches for Laura's hand. Her sister's hand is cold to the touch and she is shaking slightly though weather it is from the cold or the fear Mary doesn't know. She knows that Laura will never tell her so she doesn't ask.

She turns her head, holds her sisters hand and hopes and prays in the darkness that whatever it is that they have fallen into-caught between a vengeful bounty hunter and a man fleeing from him, that her family, her parents, her sisters will all survive it and come out alive.

After all, what left is there for Mary to do?

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 **And let me know what you think**


	4. Laura

**Hi, so here is the final chapter. If you guys like this i might come back to this fandom if not then this is a one time thing, i hope you all enjoyed this quick little story and thank you for taking the time to read. This story does contain some of the language used in the episode so keep in mind it might not be historically accurate, this has only been written for fun.**

 **Disclaimer-Nothing is mine,**

 **Please Read and Review.**

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Survivor

Missing scenes from the episode Survival in Season 1. Four chaptered fic-from the point of view of Charles, Caroline, Mary and Laura.

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Part 4-Laura

The night after the shooting and the early morning afterwards.

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Laura wakes up with a jolt.

Last night sleep had been thin and she had both shivered with cold and fear and she had struggled to fall back asleep. Her Ma had kept the three of them back and had tended to Jack Lame Horse herself rolling up her sleeves and cleaning up the blood that had spilled onto the floor. Laura had never seen blood like that before. She had seen blood before, scraped knees and broken noses and she knew what a gunshot looked like having seen them in animals before. But she had never seen that much blood.

There had been so much the entire house stunk of it. Mary for once this strange night doing what she was told had pulled Laura back down covering them with the covers, Carrie included so that the covers were over their head and they couldn't see or smell much more. It did nothing to hide the sounds or what Laura could imagine was going on and she struggled with the images behind her eyelids.

She had to grip Mary's hand for the first hour which felt like a lifetime and pretend that she didn't feel her older sister's whole body shaking like a leaf in a snowstorm next to her.

There was another bang and Laura squeezed her eyes shut thinking that Mr Anders had shot someone else but she hears the scraping of the pot being lifted up and knows that it wasn't what she thought it was.

Laura has had harder nights sleeping but she has never remembered a night going as slow as that one.

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She wakes up in the morning and finds that the snow has stopped. The entire house, the roof, the grounds, the window is bathed in a perfect white. Jack Lame Horse is still asleep but the blood and the carnage of the night before, the little of it that she saw and the worst that she just knew came is gone. Her Ma or perhaps even her Pa must have scrubbed the stones clean and washed the bloody rags, or even burned them.

She and Mary stick their heads out the blankets and curl up against the wall Carrie stirring. Her Ma passes them a cup of soup each. The cups clink against their frozen fingers and Laura takes a good look at her Ma then.

Her Ma looks tired but there's a warm smile though it's the same one that was on her face so many times during the last few days. It's twisted a little around the edges and Laura knows just like Mary knew and knows now that her mother is only keeping herself strong because a part of her, an indomitable part of her Ma refuses to show weakness even in front of her own family, and especially not in the face of two men that she doesn't know.

Laura wishes that when she grows up she can be just as indomitable as her Ma. She thinks that should her own home ever be invaded she would act as best she could to protect her family.

She and Mary curled up, backs up against the wall and Carrie cuddled between their legs and wrapped snug in blankets and their coats. They talk a little but not much, only to themselves.

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That night is not as easy as the one before but she can see out of the corner of her eye her Pa visibly relax, his shoulders uncoiling when he stares out the window. She can see Marshall Anders...Mr Anders...Whatever his title, doing the same thing and Jack Lame Horse starts moving during the night, a sure sign that he is on the mend her Ma says.

That night her Pa tells them that in the morning they will begin packing. Marshall Anders takes her Pa's place of staring out the window looking for his own friends and hoping they've not abandoned him to what Laura suspects would have been a painful death.

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She knows he's concerned that they have because during those periods he doesn't train his gun on Jack Lame Horse or make snide comments about hangings and rewards. In fact if Laura was sure of herself in this situation she would say that she was sure that the man's attitude towards the Indian man was getting a little better, though Mary whispered to her on their last night that it was probably the fact that this was the first night in nearly four nights here that they all have had a good, full belly.

She's glad. She's more than ready to leave this place, she wants to go home to her own house, and her own bed with her dog. She wants to look out her own window and change her clothes and even take a bath, anything to rid this feeling that somehow the events here have tainted her family in any way, shape of form. At this point she thinks she's almost looking forwards to seeing Nellie and Willie again.

Almost.

That morning her Ma sets her and Mary to packing up the sheets. Mary sits Carrie on a pillow and they fold the sheets into neat little squares just like they've been told. Her Ma and Pa work the heavy stuff and Marshall Anders moves out of their way occasional helping whenever her Pa asks him too.

She's busy folding the last sheet when Marshall Anders leaves. She notices he doesn't take Jack Lame Horse with him. Laura doesn't understand much about either of the men that have joined them uninvited in their shelters nor does she know much about the history that sees them on opposite sides of this great divide of culture but she does see the relief in both her Ma and Pa's faces and knows that nothing bad is going to happen today.

Today they all get to move on with their lives.

She doesn't doubt that she will ever see either of these men, so strange and yet so similar in their own way again and she's not sad for it. They haven't even spent a week in this place and already Laura feels like a different person than that little girl that she was when she half fell, half stumbled into the small shelter they've been surviving in.

She doesn't even have to look at her sister to know that she's been struggling with the same idea. If Laura had a remembrance book she knew that she would write about this one day. Even though she didn't know if this was a memory that she would want to remember.

Instead she pulled her boots on only shuddering a little at the dampness that was still there. There was something on them, a spot of dark brown that she tries to pretend isn't blood. She and Mary had kicked off their boots the previous night in order to sleep more easily under their protective circle of blankets and now she doesn't want to look at what's on her feet or what's not regardless. She could be imagining things. The good Lord knows that Laura has an overactive imagination, everyone has said so and a part of her wants to believe that that was just it.

(Another part of her disbelieves that entire statement. It's blood on her boots and she wants to do nothing but crawl underneath the covers that she's just folded and pretend that she's never seen it before in her entire life)

However she stands tall and only lets out a sigh of relief when Mr Anders takes one step out the door, and then another, to mount his horse and then he rides off into the distance.

She won't be sorry if she never sees him again in her life.

Jack Lame Horse slips out the door three seconds later, he shakes her Pa's hand after a moment of consideration and gives some strange salute/half bow in her mother's direction which Laura takes to mean as some strange kind of respect. His eyes rake over both her, Mary and Carrie and then without a backwards glance he's out the door and into the white snow.

They pack up in silence and while Mary looks back at their shelter as they leave it, much like she did in their little house on the Prairie. Some memories are both painful and difficult for her to wrap her brain around even know when she thinks that's she's older than she was back then.

She likes to think that anyway.

They all but crawl into the wagon, her Pa shuts the door to the house with respect and Mary and Laura spread a blanket over their knees. Laura is exhausted and she can see purple smudges under Mary's eyes, Carrie seems to be the only one that has come through this with little change to her and Laura doesn't know if she wishes her sister this ignorance or if she wants to shake her until she understand what had has happened over the course of the last four or five days.

She shudders once and though she doesn't know it Jack Lame Horse is giving her parents a very special farewell and thank you. Mary smiles at her as the wagon begins to move and Laura knows her sister well enough to know that she too is happy to get home as much as she.

The wagon starts to move, Laura closes her eyes and she knows that she has survived this, her sisters have survived this, her Ma and her Pa have survived this and they are going home.

And after all...home is the nicest word Laura Ingalls knows.

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 **And there we go, hope you all enjoyed.**


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